


Immemorially Known

by fullarmorandahotfudgesundae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU Season 13 Episode 22 Exodus, Can We Have Well-Adjusted Winchesters?, Canon-Typical Violence, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Or Is That A Sign Of Another Apocalypse?, POV Sam Winchester, Pre-Slash, Sam Winchester is So Done, Sassy Gabriel (Supernatural), Season/Series 07, Season/Series 13, Time Travel, Timey-Wimey, resolved quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullarmorandahotfudgesundae/pseuds/fullarmorandahotfudgesundae
Summary: This was most definitely not his room in the bunker. Not unless he’d somehow gone blind and grown an affinity for the 1970s.This was the living room in Rufus’-later-Bobby’s cabin.Notwhere he’d gone to bed, in other words. Okay, time to play by the rule book, and just the fact that they had a rule book for possible transportation/kidnappings/reality-altering shenanigans said a lot about the Winchester life.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 142





	Immemorially Known

**Author's Note:**

> The Winchesters' life is full of twists and turns, but this one is really a doozy.
> 
> I was, as most of us were, annoyed by Series 13. Thus, this fix-it was born. 
> 
> The title comes from Carl Jung's description of deja vu in _Memories, Dreams, Reflections_. Take from that what you will.

Sam gasped awake, the echoes of a silent scream ringing in his ear somehow louder than an audible sound of anguish. 

He moaned, memories hitting him hard, and buried his head in his hands. Oh, God. How had that actually happened? How had they lost even more? 

“Uh, Sammy?” came Dean’s tentative voice. “You okay there, little brother?” 

Snapping his neck up, and ow, that was dumb, Sam stared at his brother who really shouldn’t have been in his room. 

“Dean? What the hell are you doing in my room?” Sam tried to push down the emotions still swirling through him to give his brother his best bitchface. 

“Your room, dude? Seriously, how much did you have to drink last night? We never get two rooms here, man.” Dean’s expression turned sly as he continued, “Not unless you were thinking about going home with some honey. Did you score? Did Sammy finally become a man last night?” 

Ignoring Dean’s annoying Dean-ness with long practice, Sam finally yanked his brain out of the events of the last week and looked around the room. 

Which was most definitely not his room in the bunker. Not unless he’d somehow gone blind and grown an affinity for the 1970s. 

This was the spare room in Rufus’-later-Bobby’s cabin. 

Not where he’d gone to bed, in other words. 

Okay, time to play by the rule book, and just the fact that they had a rule book for possible transportation/kidnappings/reality altering shenanigans said a lot about the Winchester life. 

“Uh, yeah, man, just a little disoriented. Sorry for waking you up.” 

Now that he was paying attention, Sam could see Dean was wearing the same face he had every time one of Sam’s Cage nightmares struck. The face of a person who couldn’t do a damn thing but watch someone suffer. Sam hadn’t seen that face directed at him in years, actually. 

Well, except for after the Trials. And after Eileen. And, okay, yeah, he was intimately familiar with that look. This one had a particular Cage feel to it, though. Don’t ask him; it was just brotherly intuition and living in each other’s pockets for longer than was healthy. 

Dean wiped a hand over his face. “Jesus, Sam, you don’t need to apologize for that. Just, try not to sound like your heart is getting ripped out, okay? None of us sleep well enough to wake up to that.” 

He stomped off, presumably to the bathroom to shower. 

Sam knew his brother hadn’t meant anything by it, had actually tried to be supportive in an ass-backwards Dean sort of way, but that comment about getting his heart ripped out hit a little too close to home and Sam’s most recent memories. 

First things first, however, Sam needed to figure out what was going on. 

One, he went to bed in the bunker and woke up in Rufus' cabin, a place they hadn’t been to for years, now. 

Two, thinking back, Dean looked younger and, despite being obviously run down, not as careworn as the Dean Sam had said goodnight to the night before. 

Three, well, hell with three. The signs were pointing to time travel or alternate universes, neither of which were his favourite thing to deal with. 

Time for step number two. Sam got up and hunted around their typically messy room for any info on when he was. He got lucky with a receipt for Chinese that had both date and address. Grabbing Dean’s phone off the nightstand, he compared dates. 

Apparently, he was back in 2011 somewhere, and they had recently been in Indiana. 

God, what were they doing in Indiana seven years ago? He strained his memory, trying to think back. Did they know about the Leviathans yet? Possibly. They definitely didn’t know how to kill them. They didn’t even have the bunker yet, not until Henry’s visit next year. 

Sam’s brain was starting to hurt. He hated time travel. 

As he kept leafing through Dean’s usual detritus, he found a receipt for an order of chicken feet, making his dim memory of the events in Indiana come forward. Right, this was the case with the witches in serious need of marriage counselling. And given the way his body felt, they had definitely just had that confrontation. 

He laughed to himself, thinking back on the humanness of those witches. If they’d just talked to each other, so much could have been avoided. Lesson learned and dismissed in traditional Winchester fashion. 

He remembered Bobby’s reaction to that episode, trying to see if anything had sunk in to their thick heads. In between Big Mouth torture sessions, anyway. 

Wait. 

Bobby! Bobby was still alive! Hence them being in his house, right Sam, may want to wake all the fuck up now. Actually, come to think of it, lots of the people they’d lost were alive... 

Oh fuck. 

Sam totally blamed his inexcusable slowness on being mentally exhausted. He was in the past. Somehow, some way, he was in the past and the events he had woken up mourning hadn’t actually happened yet. 

Which meant...oh, god, please, God, Chuck, Somebody, please! 

“Gabriel, who better not be dead, you asshole, don’t you dare be dead and get your ass down here now!” 

Dean came tearing back into the room wrapped in a towel as Sam continued to shout abuse at the ceiling. 

“What the hell, Sam?” 

Sam ignored him in favour of cajoling the stubborn archangel to come out of hiding. 

Now Dean was really concerned. “Sam, Sammy, what are you doing? You know Lucifer iced Gabriel, like two years ago.” 

“No, Dean, he didn’t. Just trust me, okay.” 

Dean continued to stare at him, barely turning his head to shout, “Bobby, get up here two minutes ago!” 

Sam didn’t have time for anything but focusing on annoying the last damn archangel from wherever the hell he was. “Gabriel, I swear by all that is holy and unholy, if you don’t get your feathered ass over here right now...” 

“Bobby! Sam’s gone nuts! Again! He thinks Gabriel is alive!” 

Sam snapped his head up, locking onto their pseudo-father figure as he puffed his way into the room. God, he was a sight for sore eyes. Sam was actually tearing up a little, which just ramped Dean’s concern up through the roof. 

Bobby took one look at him and suddenly there was a gun in his face. 

Sam sighed. He probably should have expected that. 

Raising his hands slowly, he said, “It’s me, Bobby. Well, _a_ me, anyway.” 

It was faster to acknowledge something was off and get Bobby started on the problem than trying to explain to Dean, who probably wouldn’t have believed him anyway, given what Sam remembered about their relationship at this time. The visions of Lucifer had been getting much, much worse, although the Devil’s doppelganger had only been ramping up. Dean had basically thought he was going ‘round the bend at any given second. 

Bobby just took it at face value, given how weird their lives were. “Okay, _a_ Sam, time to run the gauntlet.” 

It was almost comforting, watching Bobby go through all the usual tests. Sam didn’t even flinch at the silver knife, which made Dean look sad. He didn’t want to tell this younger older brother just how much more suffering they were all going to go through. 

There was, however, one ritual Sam didn’t know and Dean apparently hadn’t seen either. Mashing together some angelica, birch bark, datura, and holy basil, Bobby poured the mixture onto a small brazier that already had some frankincense on it. Lighting it, he raised an eyebrow at Sam. 

Sighing internally, Sam braced himself and leant forward to breathe in the noxious fumes. 

“God, Bobby, that’s rank!” Sam coughed, but obediently inhaled under Bobby’s stare. 

After an interminable amount of time, Bobby stopped his investigation, soul-searching, whatever metaphysical thing he was doing. Wearing that something-is-wrong-but-damned-if-I-know expression that only Bobby could pull off, he said “Sam’s not crazy, Dean. No more so than usual, anyway. Actually, seems like he’s in possession of more of his faculties than he’s had lately.” 

Wow, thanks for that, Bobby. 

“How can you tell?” Dean’s voice had a definite note of hysteria to it. Sam closed his eyes, remembering the strain Dean was under from a slowly deteriorating little brother and a missing angel. 

Sam wasn’t the only one who had heard it. Bobby obviously swallowed back a sarcastic response, choosing instead to just lay it out there. 

“Once we heard about souls being used as currency and the Leviathan taking people over, I whipped up a quick-tell spell for seeing if somebody’s soul is still there. Guess it packs a little more of a punch than I intended. I get a hell of a lot of data on somebody. Sam’s soul is, no surprise, older than it should be, but it ain’t fractured. At all. Last I saw you boys, hell, even last night, I didn’t even need a spell to tell me Sam was falling apart. This is Sam, for sure, but something’s happened.” 

Focusing back on Sam, the older hunter continued, “Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on, son?” 

Sam didn’t quite know what to do with the news that Bobby had a spell to see if the soul was there. That hadn’t happened in his time line. Was he wrong? Was this actually some alternate universe and he was stuck with only close approximations of his brother and Bobby? 

Dean sighed, recognizing Sam’s descent into his own brain for a bunch of what-ifs. “Dude, just tell us what’s going on. We’ll figure it out, Sammy. We always do.” 

No matter what version, his brother had the ability to make Sam feel better. 

“It’s a long story. Can we go sit in the living room?” 

Bobby and Dean did that really annoying mind meld thing Sam had gotten sick of about two days into the last apocalypse. 

He could almost see the conversation. 

_Dean: Is that a smart idea? Whoever this is, is contained here._

_Bobby: Well, boy, it’s not like we don’t have weapons out in the living room._

_Dean: What if this is a Sam that was taken over by Lucifer and is just playing us?_

_Bobby: Dean, if that’s the Devil, we’re SOL anyway. May as well go comfortable._

_Dean: Goddammit._

He would have laughed if that wouldn’t have probably confirmed Dean’s highly apparent distrust of a Sam in full possession of his faculties. 

Once everyone was settled on various dilapidated pieces of furniture, Sam stalled out. How was he supposed to go about detailing the shitshow that was their life in their future, his past, whatever? 

Sensing Dean’s increasing impatience, he tried to quickly pull it together. 

Sam took a deep breath, centring himself, before launching into a brief, yet detailed, synopsis of the next several crises. He stuttered and stalled on some parts, or had to stop entirely at one point when Dean stood up abruptly and stormed out of the room. 

Bobby just sighed, looking extremely old and tired. “Let him go, Sam. He just needs a minute.” 

He wiped his hand over his face. “This is hard to hear. Not that it’s not harder on you having lived it, boy, but wow, do we do some stupid things.” 

Sam could understand that, but he would have liked to just get through all the highlights at once. Not that he wasn’t editing. Boy, was he editing in some cases. No way in hell was he ever telling Dean about the Mark and First Blade. No way, no how. 

Dean came slamming back in, carrying not one, not two, but a whole bucket of beer. He set it down in between them all with a bang. 

“What,” he said flatly, bringing a bottle to his lips and taking a deep draught. 

Sam shrugged, feeling like Dean’s burgeoning alcoholism was not a hill he wanted to die on today. Grabbing a brew for himself, he continued, bringing them up to speed until the last year or so. 

When it came to Mom, he stalled out again. How was he supposed to tell Dean that he hoped those circumstances never happened again? 

Dean just gave him a look at his hesitation and said, “Dude. Okay, I believe you’re Marty McFly, but seriously, stop hedging. Can’t fix things if we don’t know what happened.” 

Sam cringed, knowing Dean was right, but that he wasn’t going to like what came next. 

He grit his teeth, trying to get through the story as fast as possible. Sam winced when Dean’s face drained of all colour at the mention of Mom. Sam’s own pangs of loss didn’t help. He’d only had his Mom for such a little bit of his life, mostly during horrific events. 

Sam barely managed to make it through Lucifer Part Two, Jack, Gabriel, and then the alternate world before he completely ran out of steam. 

God, what a shitshow his life was/had been. 

Sam sighed, rubbing his hand over his tired, burning eyes. 

Of course, his life couldn’t be simple. If he’d hit some sort of reset button, why hadn’t it taken him back to before Jessica was murdered, back to the start of everything? Or at least before the start of Gabriel’s horrific suffering. It would have been worth it to go through the apocalypse and the torture of the Cage he probably deserved anyway if he could have spared Gabriel the close encounter with Asmodeus. 

Bobby had been remarkably silent during his recitation. Sam had glossed over his imminent-from-this-angle death, but Bobby was smart enough to notice his absence from later events. He had also once again proven that Winchesters could be dumbasses, because Bobby had jotted down rough notes on events. Did Sam or Dean ever think to do that when they’d been messed with by time travel? Ha, no. They’d usually flailed around reacting instead of planning. That just proved that Bobby really _was_ smarter than both of them combined. 

“You boys don’t do anything halfway, do ya?” Bobby finally said. 

On his part, Dean had stayed pale through the end of Sam’s monologue. Looking at him, Sam could see the fine tremors running through him. “Sammy...” his big brother whispered, sounding destroyed. 

“Hey, Dean, I’m here now, okay? None of that’s happened yet. We just need to figure out if I’m here for good, or if I can change things, or what.” 

All three hunters just sat there, not meeting each other’s eyes at the immensity of changing that wretched future. 

“Well, I see why ya wanted the archangel, Sam. This would go a might better with that kind of firepower.” Bobby was already strategizing. Sam didn’t have the heart to tell him that was the most miniscule part of why he wanted Gabriel. 

“It was probably too much to hope for that Kentucky Fried Demon didn’t have him already. Unless he’s just ignoring me to keep his cover. I never did find out the time line for him to be betrayed and sold on to Asmodeus.” 

Sam stopped. 

Oh. That was an idea. 

“Bobby! I need a Loki summoning ritual! Mistletoe, alder, and mullein, and lots of candles.” 

Dean was shaking his head, muttering, “You’re out of your friggin’ mind, Sam. Tryin’ to summon that bastard? Who cares if he’s alive or dead anyway?” 

Sam felt a jolt of anger that surprised him in its intensity. The surprise kept him from blowing up at Dean while he tried to narrow down the feeling. Okay, he was lying to himself. He knew full well why he was upset. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it at that particular moment. Or maybe ever, depending on how the next few minutes played out. 

It was Bobby, surprisingly, who spoke up. “Boy, that angel died saving you and your brother. Even if he didn’t die, he still stood up to his brother, the Devil. Show some respect!” 

That was why Sam loved Bobby. 

“Now, Sam, slow down a second and tell me what you’re thinking.” 

Sam cleared his throat of all the emotions that were threatening to swamp him again. “Uh, so Gabriel posed as Loki, right? So, he has a connection to that name. And even if he’s ducking me, he still shouldn’t be able to wiggle out of a summoning spell. And, well, if it’s the worst-case scenario and Asmodeus already has him, maybe pulling him away as Loki instead of Gabriel will do the trick.” 

Bobby nodded thoughtfully, mulling it over. Dean just stood in the background, obviously not seeing why it was necessary. Sam himself wasn’t too sure, other than he just needed to see Gabriel alive, not the horrible image of Michael driving his blade through his alternate younger brother for protecting them. 

And a driving need to make sure his angel was alive. Even if he wasn’t _his_ angel, per se. 

Plus, what was the point of time travel if he couldn’t change a few things? Forget what Cas had said; Balthazar and Anna had both attempted to change the past. Sure, there were sometimes major consequences, but getting Gabriel out of Hell before Asmodeus could completely crush him was worth it. 

His musings were cut into by Bobby. “Okay, Sam, but we’re doing this in an easily contained area.” 

The two flew around Bobby’s newly rebuilt safe room, again something that had changed from his memory of this time. Sam clearing space and marking out the summoning sigils, Bobby running in and out with various herbs and candles. 

They were almost done when a bag of probably outdated Halloween candy landed in the middle of the summoning circle. 

Sam looked up at Dean, standing there with his arms crossed and a mulish expression on his face. 

“What?” Dean said, “I doubt it’s going to work without a heaping bag of sugar for the candyman.” 

That was as good as a blessing from Dean Winchester. 

Lighting the candles, Sam intoned, “We beseech you, Loki. Liesmith, Silvertongue, Trickster of the Aesir, we request your presence. Take these offerings and appear to us!” 

He held his breath, waiting to see if this would work. He swore to himself that he’d storm Hell itself to get Gabriel out of Asmodeus’ clutches if it didn’t. 

It seemed he wouldn’t have to, as the candles abruptly guttered in an unfelt breeze and a figure, no two, slowly began to materialize in the circle of sigils. 

Sam had somewhat forgotten, or at least ignored, the fact that intention was only part of the spell. Sure, he intended to get Gabriel, masquerading as Loki, not Loki himself, but a summoning was a summoning. 

He’d brought both Gabriel and his betrayer into a very small, very protected summoning circle. 

Oops. 

Sam didn’t even have to look more than twice to tell who was Gabriel and who was Loki. His Loki, the Trickster archangel in hiding who had tormented, saved, and befriended him, was probably the only person other than Dean and Bobby that Sam would never be able to mistake. The true Loki had a cruel edge to his stance that Gabriel, even at the height of his douchebaggy archangelness, could never hope to emulate. 

Gabriel, on the other hand, wasn’t looking so hot, with seeping cuts across his hands and face and tattered clothes telling a damning tale. 

Still, Sam let his relief sag him into the corner of the table. “God, Gabriel, you’re alive!” 

Loki opened his mouth to say something, but Gabriel just glared, eyes flaring enough that the god shut his trap, choosing a slightly shaky smirk instead. 

Satisfied, the archangel looked around the room, noting the summoning and nodding approvingly at Bobby. 

“Singer, nice job on the spellwork. Dean-o, Sammich,” he paused and did a legitimate double take at Sam. 

A quiet “Oh” escaped him. 

Sam held his breath, not sure what the rapid stream of emotions crossing Gabriel’s face meant. 

He watched as the archangel took a few steps closer to the edge of the summoning circle, just waiting to see what was going to happen. Gabriel had a very determined expression, very like when he had faced his older brothers. 

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Sam yelled, “Look out!” 

Gabriel hadn’t needed the warning, however, as before Sam even got a word out, he had twirled, blade suddenly out and meeting Loki’s knife-led charge. 

Effortlessly holding the god in place, Gabriel growled out, “You and me are going to have some words, bucko, but I’ve apparently got more pressing business at the moment, so sit tight.” 

Giving a shove to disengage their blades, Gabriel took the last step backwards to put him outside the containment circle. 

Loki gaped at him, “How’d you...” 

“Archangel,” Gabriel said, smirking, as he used his blade to gesture at himself. “Duality trumps intent when I want it to.” 

“Gabriel,” Loki paused to audibly swallow, “no hard feelings, eh? Just look at it as even steven all the way around?” 

“Zip it, pipsqueak. The grownups need to talk,” Gabriel said, snapping his fingers. 

Sam watched in wary awe as Loki’s mouth was suddenly sewn shut. 

Yep, Gabriel was pissed. 

Rightfully so, but wow, that dark tone was terrifying. There was Heaven’s most deadly weapon, right there. 

Aaand, that was Heaven’s most deadly weapon stalking toward him. 

Sam could only watch, vaguely aware that Bobby was restraining Dean from doing something phenomenally stupid. 

Gabriel came to a halt right in front of Sam, who had somehow forgotten just how short the archangel’s vessel was as he kept looking down and down to meet those unique golden eyes. Their eyes met and held and it felt like the whole world was waiting for Gabriel to speak. 

“Sam, I’m sorry.” 

“For what? Broward County? I got over that a while ago.” Sam shook his head, not expecting that. He was just glad to see the angel alive. 

Gabriel shook his head in turn. “No, well, yes, I’m sorry you didn’t get that lesson through your thick skull, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m sorry that I left. I promised I wouldn’t, then I up and died on you.” 

Oh. 

Huh. 

Sam’s brain had flatlined while the blood in his veins seemed to have started fizzing. 

This was his Gabriel then. The one who he kept seeing run through by a brother for the second time. 

He had not seen that coming. 

Opening his eyes, not remembering having closed them, he saw a short, blurry figure moving even closer. Warm hands grasped his shoulders and pulled him down into a passionate kiss Sam hadn’t consciously known he was aching for until just then. 

Not wasting a moment of this miracle, Sam encircled that beloved form, tugging the archangel even closer as they melted together. 

Gabriel only released his mouth when Sam felt himself start to sob. His lover tucked Sam’s head down into the angel’s shoulder, soothingly running his hands up and down Sam’s back. Sam couldn’t help it; he was overcome by pretty much everything. He eventually managed to get himself under control, simply relishing in the feel and smell of Gabriel. 

“Uh...” Dean started to say something, but Bobby slapped a hand over his mouth. 

Just in time, too, as Gabriel stood back, looked Sam up and down in smug concern only he could pull off, then turned wrathfully back to Loki. The god was staring at them, wide eyed above his sewn-shut mouth. When Gabriel started walking determinedly toward him, muffled sounds came pouring out. 

“No, no,” Gabriel crooned as he stalked toward the summoning circle turned holding circle. “No need to worry about what I might do the pissant that sold me into slavery to the very creative Prince of Hell who tortured me for years on end, draining my Grace.” 

He stepped up to the very edge of the circle, radiating with power and suppressed rage. 

Sam vaguely wondered what that said about him that he was turned on. Still? Again? Whatever, Gabriel was an awe-inspiring sight, especially to the one who had thought him lost forever. 

Gabriel leaned forward, sparking off the warded circle. Loki had backed away, pressed against the far side of the circle. Everyone watched in trepidation or fascination as Gabriel slowly brought his right hand up. The dramatic asshole paused, breathing in the fear of his prey, before snapping. 

Dean and Bobby flinched, having a Pavlovian fear reaction to that sound, but Sam simply watched as Loki disappeared from the circle. 

“Well, now that that’s taken care of,” Gabriel said cheerfully, dusting his hands together as he turned back around. 

Worriedly, Sam asked, “Won’t his kids come look for him and go after you again?” 

“Nah, don’t worry Sammy, just stuck him in a little pocket universe to re-enact his mythical torment, minus Sigyn this time, of course. He’ll be fine, the fam’ll know he isn’t dead, just in time-out, and all’s well.” Gabriel was practically bouncing from the relief of having that bit of drama dealt with and the joy of stretching his powers. 

Wait, how did Sam know that? 

Gabriel blithely continued, “He’s just lucky that I landed back here, when Ass-modeus just barely managed to make his tortures worse than tickles. If I’d had to go through the rest of it again...” 

Sam winced, pulling his lover to him as Gabriel drew even with the younger Winchester. 

“Gabriel, don’t even.” Sam didn’t want to think about all the horrors Gabriel had endured during those years he’d been thought dead. He could feel Gabriel trembling, just enough to be obvious to Sam, but not the others. The archangel was still far from mentally healed from his trauma. Sam just held him closer, hoping to provide some comfort. 

Dean had evidently lost what little patience he had. “What the hell happened to you two? What the fuck is going on?” 

Bobby looked slightly disapproving at the pair of them, but his innate curiosity won out over any sort of chastisement. “Second that. I think we need to figure out what happened to you both in the future to bring you back here. And also if you replaced the Sam and Gabriel of this time...” 

“Ah, no,” Gabriel interrupted. “That one I can clear up for you right now. Nobody got replaced or really even moved. As far as I can tell, which is considerably by the way, Sam and I went on a little astral jaunt. But these are the original models of both meat and mind, just with a little more wear on the mind part.” 

Sam let out a sigh of relief. That would have been a little too close to possession for his peace of mind, even if it was himself possessing himself, which one could argue wasn’t necessarily possession. Maybe his thoughts were running away from him a bit. 

Sam finally asked the question that had been burning on his tongue. “Okay, so if it’s time travel and I’m in my past, why is Lucifer gone? Why don’t I have that all-encompassing fear that everything is a hallucination and I’m really still in the Cage that was dogging my every moment the first time around?” 

Gabriel pressed closer, giving comfort. “It’s like a psychic car wash. Cas washed the stench of Luci out of your mind, and even if he didn’t do it here, your consciousness was attached to the one that did get washed, so when you pulled back to reality, bingo, bye bye Hallucifer. Don’t matter where your body was; Luci only snagged on to your soul, hence dreamwalking, astral projection, whatever the hell happened, let him get pushed out all the way around.” 

“Huh. That’s almost too neat and tidy. When are our lives ever that easy?” 

“Gift horse, Dean-o, and you are staring down its gullet. Let’s just trust your friendly neighborhood archangel on the fact your brother is free and clear of the Devil, something that is going to save massive amounts of stress and pain in the future.” 

Sam was terribly relieved by the whole notion of getting rid of Lucifer, but there was a more pressing problem. “Uh, what about Cas?” 

Dean involuntarily made a pained face. Sam almost felt bad about bringing it up, but something was niggling in his brain about Gabriel and Leviathan. 

“What’s wrong with my littlest bro?” Gabriel had an intent look on his face, obviously reading something off Sam that he wasn’t even sure he was sharing. He’d forgotten that nobody had ever caught Gabriel up on everything he’d missed as a prisoner. They’d been more focused on the immediate threat of Lucifer and Michael. 

Apparently, nobody answered quickly enough for Gabriel as Sam’s whole body jolted with the feeling of an enormous poke in the soul. Dean and Bobby didn’t react at all, raising, or rather confirming, Sam’s earlier suspicions. 

Oh, that couldn’t be good. Glaring at Gabriel, hoping his 'you fucker' radiated plainly through the ether, Sam missed some of Dean’s bitter recounting of what the archangel had missed in his cage. 

“...and now he’s down at the bottom of a reservoir, probably fighting for his life trying to keep the Leviathan from having access to a superpowered meatsuit.” 

A moment of silence as Gabriel just blinked. 

“Well,” he said slowly, obviously overcoming some shock, “You bozos just go around screwing everything up, don’t you? No, no,” he waved off the protests at that, “I get that this one is on Cassie. Man, is my little brother dumb. I’m actually in awe of how abysmally stupid the little angel that could turned out to be.” 

Dean glowered at that, never one to hear criticism of Castiel. It’d be sweet if Gabriel hadn’t hit the nail on the head. They’d all been a little dumb in the wake of numerous crises right after the cancelled apocalypse. 

Gabriel glanced at Dean and smirked. “No, Dean-o, I’m not slagging off on your bff. I’m seriously just admiring how much Cassie’s changed since hanging around with you schmucks. He was always the most earnest little fledgling. It took all my considerable talents to even make the little guy laugh. He was always concerned with following the rules and not putting a feather out of line.” 

The archangel paused, looking fond. Sam didn’t know what to make of this openly and honestly emotional Gabriel. 

“Then again, kid was always too curious for his own good. This is probably just like the time he spent nearly a century simply watching a tree grow. He just wanted to see what would happen.” 

Sam felt it was time to redirect back to his point. The sharing was all well and good, but Dean looked torn between throwing probably sharp things at an archangel and cooing over the image of a curious baby Cas. That wasn’t good for anybody. 

“Yeah, but can we do anything for him? Can we get the Leviathan out?” 

Baby steps, Sam thought. Get Cas back, then take on the Leviathan. At least he knew what would work this time around. Maybe they could save more people from becoming Soylent Green. 

“Uh, archangel and all around awesome here,” Gabriel boasted. “This’ll be a snap.” 

“Oh,” Bobby said softly with a tone of realization. 

Sam got it in the next second. Duh. 

“What?!” Dean was getting stressed again and in no mood to be the last one clued in. 

“Boy, don’t you ever read the Bible?” Bobby gave Dean the same look he’d been giving him ever since they started training to hunt, which is to say all their lives. The look that said, if you don’t pay attention, you’re gonna be monster food. 

“Well, yeah.” Dean caught Sam’s disbelieving face and hurriedly continued, “okay, maybe once. A while ago.” 

Bobby slapped his hand up on his face. “Dean. You were facing down demons from the time you could drink, you have an angel of the Lord as your best friend, you played a major role in the freakin’ Christian Apocalypse, and you’re telling me you didn’t bother reading the Book about it all?” 

“Uh, no.” Dean was shamefaced, like he knew he’d pulled a dumbass move. 

Sam felt a nudge and looked down to see a highly entertained Gabriel offering him some popcorn. He couldn’t have stopped the wave of fondness and relief that swept through him. Gabriel was here! He was alive and with Sam, willing to share his amusement at Dean being chastised like a child. Sam’s knees almost buckled with the feelings sweeping through him. 

Gabriel’s eyes locked on to his immediately. Vanishing his popcorn, Gabriel took Sam’s hand and held it tightly. Sam’s stomach swooped as he felt mirrored emotions flow through him, although on such a scale that they were decidedly not his. 

Oh, not good. Not good. 

Gabriel gave him a wink as he squeezed Sam’s hand. Sam felt reassurance pushed at him and tacitly agreed that now was _not_ the time to get into what he thought they were going to have to fight about. 

“Idjit,” Bobby declared, bringing their attention back to the issue at hand. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, all right? I went into a bunch of situations without using every available resource. Now will someone tell me what the big deal with Gabriel and the Leviathan are and how that will help Cas?” 

Gabriel let go of Sam’s hand with a last squeeze and stepped forward. 

“Well, Dean, let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m pretty stuck on your gigantic brother, here. Cuz guess who’s prophesied to kill Leviathan? This guy, right here. Okay, occasionally I’m supposed to get help from Mikey, but let’s face it, he never was much of a team player.” 

God, why was Sam in love with this obnoxious being? Sam ducked his head to hide a smile at Gabriel’s antics. He knew it was more to make the angel feel better about himself. 

“Prophesies don’t mean shit around us, you know that, right?” Dean wasn’t necessarily being hostile, at least Sam hoped he wasn’t. And he did have a point. 

“This one isn’t so much prophesy as gospel. Dad figured out pretty fast that whoops, those Leviathan were a baaaad idea, but being the kid with the ant farm He is, He decided to give himself a loophole from massive world destruction if they ever got loose from Purgatory. Hence, moi and my handy little bit of extra amazing that will squash them like the eternal cockroaches they are.” 

Bobby looked like he couldn’t believe he was living through something written about millennia ago, and Sam was right there with him. ‘Course, Sam also had to fight the disbelief that he _slept_ with the God-created Leviathan killer. 

Dean pretty much just looked simultaneously lost and determined, same as he’d looked since they lost Cas. 

It was decided that the Winchesters would drive out to the reservoir, hopefully distracting Crowley, if he was already in play, and Dick from Gabriel as he gathered the necessary items to eliminate the Leviathan. 

Bobby wasn’t happy about being left behind, but Sam was terrified that bringing him along would put him back in Dick’s sights for a similar outcome as last time. 

Bobby agreed to hang out down in the safe room with a bunch of Borax. It had taken some effort, but the combined force of Sam and Gabriel, armed with foreknowledge, had Bobby also agreeing to calling Jody over to see if she was interested in learning the ins and outs of hunting. Hearing what she would be up against in the future, Bobby had conceded more knowledge was better than bits and pieces. 

Plus, as Gabriel had gleefully announced, once they got rid of Dick and Co. and Bobby’s death at his hands wasn’t on the cards, who knew what pairing the two of them off could lead to. 

Bobby had sent the archangel off with a roar and an empty beer bottle that passed through the space he’d been occupying. 

Dean had laughed himself nearly sick and hied himself off to Baby to keep from getting the same treatment. 

Sam just shrugged at Bobby’s outraged demands to control his archangel. Yeah, like that was possible. He’d simply gone back to the bedroom to gather their things and off they went. 

The ride was quiet, only the sounds of one of Dean’s inevitable cassettes covering the sound of tires on the road. 

For all that they didn’t speak, the quiet wasn’t oppressive. For once, the energy in the Impala was charged with hope and in Sam’s case, nearly ebullient happiness. He was practically rolling around in the feeling, especially enjoying the sense of Gabriel’s fond amusement at his uncontainable joy. 

So of course, that’s when Dean had to open his mouth. 

“So, uh, Gabriel, huh?” Dean’s this-is-an-emotion-and-it-hurts face never got old, even if Sam really didn’t want to deal with the forthcoming conversation. 

“Yeah.” 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wished he was anywhere else. “Uh, how’d that happen? Last I checked, we hated the damn Trickster.” 

Sam had to force himself to stay calm. “The Trickster, yes. But then we found out who he was and he sacrificed himself for us. Remember that part, Dean?” 

“It’s not like he really died, though. It was just another trick. And does that really make up for all the suffering the guy’s put us through? Put you through?” 

Sam’s teeth were grinding together. He reminded himself that he had years more memories than Dean. More perspective and a totally different relationship with Gabriel. 

“Look, he thought he was going in there to die, okay? Remember that his older brother happens to be the Devil, Dean? The older, stronger brother that he looked up to and idolized? The one he both mourned and feared after the Fall? What do you think he thought was going to happen in that showdown?” 

Dean sucked in a breath at Sam’s diatribe. “Okay, I didn’t think of it that way.” 

To give his brother credit, Dean could occasionally recognize logic when it slapped him in the face. 

“You’re right, that was a suicide play.” Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, yeah, I’ll give the guy props for solid brass ones going up against Lucifer like that, even if he had a few tricks up his sleeve. And I know it saved our necks. But that doesn’t make up for the rest of what he did. I mean, the whole just desserts thing? Torture? Murder? Not to mention your little time loop trauma.” 

“Dean, l have a different perspective okay, because Gabriel and I have actually talked this out. The torture part is actually more like vigilante justice, like with the kid and the aliens. If they can change, they get another chance. If they’re unredeemable, that’s where the literal biblical justice comes in to play.” 

Dean interrupted, “Who gave him the right to be judge and jury over humans?” 

Sam stared at the side of his brother’s head. “Uh, God?” 

He was struck by a sudden revelation. “You can’t reconcile the two of them, can you? You see the Trickster and not the archangel.” 

Dean’s mulish silence spoke volumes as to Sam’s being right. 

“None of that explains the whole sucking face thing, Sam. Yeah, maybe he’s a better guy than I was giving him credit for and sure, he’s on our side. But how does that mean a sudden love connection? The guy tortured you with that time loop. He wasn’t feeling the warm fuzzies for you.” 

“Really, Dean? Just think about the song I was stuck with the entire time at Mystery Spot.” 

Dean gave him a blank look. 

“Heat of the Moment? Asia? The cause of most of my apparently hilarious double-takes and winces for almost a month?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Dean had his thinking face on, which contrary to Cas’ apparent fascination, was not attractive. Sam rather thought Dean looked like a puzzled squirrel. And then had to change that to puzzled poodle, so as not to use Crowley’s favourite pet name. And yeah, Sam was dead certain that demon had ulterior motives in seeking them out. Sleazy, carnal motives toward the oldest Winchester. 

Ew. 

“Huh,” was all Dean said to start with, obviously running the lyrics through his mind. “Oh, gross. Dude, that is so wrong!” 

Ah, there was the penny dropping. Was it wrong how much Sam enjoyed those moments? Only as long as his penny had dropped before Dean’s anyway. 

Dean continued gagging and muttering about “douchebag archangels with crushes”, but Sam, long accustomed to his brother’s histrionics, just held those lyrics close. 

_I never meant to be so bad to you...A look from you and I would Fall from Grace_

Yeah, Gabriel hadn’t even been trying to hide with that one. His execution sucked big time, but Sam was a big enough boy to admit that he definitely could have used the lesson in letting go. And it seemed like it hurt the archangel just as much as, if not even more than, Sam, seeing as he was the one doing the hurting. Sure, it took the world nearly ending a handful more times and debilitating torture for both of them before they could get their acts together, but it was kind of wholesome, in a Winchester way, to think back to those simpler times. 

Sam just took a moment to enjoy feeling emotionally healthy and well-adjusted. At least about Gabriel’s previous interactions with them. Sure, the events he lived through in the future past sucked majorly, but having been able to talk things out with Gabriel as he was recovering from his own torture had helped settle a small piece of his trauma. 

Looking at Dean’s now lightened countenance, Sam promised that he’d try the whole talking things out with his brother, protestations of chick flick moments be damned. They could both stand a whole heap of therapy, but Sam was smart. He could figure out subtle ways to talk about their shared issues. 

And having Cas back would be the best thing for Dean in the immediate future. 

Sam settled back in his seat, for once looking forward to sleep since it would bring them closer to their destination. 

It seemed their plan to distract the Leviathan was working. They’d stopped for gas a little over halfway. They’d agreed to keep to travel plazas and well-travelled areas instead of the one-pump stations they usually favoured to keep off cameras. 

There were a number of cars at the pump and parked at the neighbouring restaurant, but Dean’s spidersense had kicked in anyway. He’d muttered to Sam as they pulled in that none of the cars had any passengers and only three of the cars had people pumping gas. 

Acting casual, they both got out of the car. Sam took a moment to enjoy straightening up while Dean started pumping gas. 

Both Winchesters had adrenaline running through them, keeping them attuned to every movement of the other customers. 

Point to Dean and his massive paranoia, because they got jumped as soon as both hunters turned their backs, pretending like they were looking at the map Sam had spread on top of the car. 

All three of the ‘customers’ came running at them, big mouths opening wide in anticipation of human flesh, only to get a direct hit of Borax instead thanks to the preloaded SuperSoakers the brothers were packing. The burn of the Borax only distracted one for so long, however, and he grabbed at Sam, swinging him off his feet and into the next pump over. 

Dean pulled a machete out from somewhere Sam didn’t want to contemplate and took a swing just as the Leviathan reached him. Head number one sailed past where Sam was struggling back to his feet. 

That never got less disgusting. 

The other two, who had taken a full blast of Borax, were still smoking slightly and therefore easy for Dean to decapitate them. He was bending down to check their pockets when the attendant came running out of the building, going fast enough Dean wasn’t going to have time to straighten fully. 

Sam’s heart was in overdrive as he vaulted over the other body, swiped the machete from Dean’s grip, and separated the last big mouth from his body. 

Both gave each other numb looks as they hurried back to Baby and made tracks away from the station before the Leviathans could regenerate. 

“Dude, they are getting bold if they’re going after us in plain sight.” 

“Yeah, they can only eat so many people in one spot before it becomes obvious. And what if a car had come up? How were they going to explain that?” 

“Uh, think we shoulda grabbed the security footage?” Dean asked. 

Sam thought about it for a moment. “Nah, Dick’ll probably have a minion take care of that. No point in upsetting the cattle before they’re ready.” 

They continued on the way to the reservoir holding their friend. Neither spoke much, still shaken by the brazen attempt on them. 

Dean only added, “Thank God you came back from the future. We would have been gonners if they’d jumped us like that without knowing how to stall ’em.” 

Sam just quietly thought that he really hoped God hadn’t had anything to do with it. 

The rest of the trip was fortunately uneventful. Dean was still chewing over everything Sam had brought back with him, so he occasionally asked a clarifying question or challenged Sam on a solution. Sometimes, Sam thought that Dean would have been the better lawyer, if he could have managed to sit still long enough to get qualified. 

That was confirmed when Dean broke a long moment of silence to ask, “So, uh, not to be all girly about it or anything, but did we just stop talking at some point? Cuz I’m just getting the idea that we kind of stopped planning and just reacted, and half the time it was reacting to something that happened because of somebody keeping secrets.” 

Wow. That was emotionally insightful for Dean. Sam just took a minute to cherish the moment, in case it never occurred again. 

“Oh, fuck you very much, Samantha,” Dean snarled, annoyed at the expression on Sam’s face. A downside of spending nearly every day of your whole life together was knowing what the other was thinking. 

“No, no, I’m liking this. Maybe I should be the emotionally dense one now.” Sam screwed his face up into Dean’s usual allergic reaction to serious talk. “What? You wanna pull over and have a feelings circle? Maybe braid each other’s hair, or well, mine? Not happening, Princess.” 

Dean just stared at him for long enough that Sam started to worry about the road. 

“I don’t think I like you happy,” he finally said, voice not nearly as irritated as his words. 

Sam was still kind of radiating his bursting feelings. He also had a flash of the cringing wreck he’d been about now the first time around. Yeah, this was probably really weird for his big brother. 

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, dude, I think you’re stuck with me this way.” 

Dean just faintly smiled as he turned his attention back to the road. Sam finally saw the resemblance to Mom, which made him kind of sad, since he’d seen them side by side and never once saw Dean smile. 

Wanting to keep the moment of levity, Sam still knew that he needed to address Dean’s earlier comment before the opportunity passed. 

“Yeah, Dean, we kind of all sucked at talking or sharing the burden. All three of us just got too used to trying to ‘protect’ each other by doing what needed to be done alone, even when that made things worse.” 

Dean looked like he was chewing that over. Gruffly, he replied, “Well. That’s not happening this time.” 

They sat in comfortable silence the rest of the drive. 

Dean got progressively more worked up the closer they got to the reservoir. By the time they pulled in to the parking lot, Sam was fairly sure he was going to vibrate right out of the car. 

They got out and fully loaded for bear, which still felt light considering the Leviathan had probably tracked them all the way here. 

Nothing to do but wait. Gabriel had said he had no idea how long it would take to get his “God-given swag of legend” and then actually do the whole smiting/banishing thing. They would just have to be patient. 

It was actually kind of dull. Yeah, every now and then, they had to separate a Leviathan from its head, but they were essentially just hanging out, waiting for Gabriel to do his thing. 

They talked about this and that, really taking the time to repair their stretched bond. Even coming from extremely different perspectives on what their recent lives had been like, it was a universal truth that the Winchester brothers continually went from chaos to debacle to emergency without much downtime. Sam definitely couldn’t begrudge Dean’s narrow escape from tears when Sam told him just how much his support meant after the Cage and re-souling. 

Of course, things did have to return to status quo eventually. 

“Man, I am so _bored_ ,” Dean groaned, kicking at a stray Leviathan head. 

Sometimes their lives were just beyond gross. 

And sometimes, their lives were just ironic, because right on the heels of Dean’s outburst came a low sound, like a hunting horn blowing a few miles away. As the sound trailed off, the various Leviathan parts started vibrating. 

Sam and Dean very carefully edged away from the kill field. Whatever was happening was probably better viewed from a distance. 

Sam felt a fierce sense of victory rush through him as the Leviathan started both dissolving and exploding. The edges of the bodies started blurring, as if evaporating out of existence. Occasionally, a small ‘pop’ would release what Sam could only think of as the opposite of fireworks. Instead of a flame or spark of chemicals, a dense black sphere would appear and suck all the pieces of each Leviathan into itself before it in turn sucked itself out of existence. 

As the last scrap of Leviathan vanished, Gabriel finally appeared, for once preceded by a flap of wings. “I bring you tidings of great joy!” he said, throwing his arms out. 

“Yeah, we got the tail end of your little pyrotechnics show,” Dean said, approval in his voice belying his words. 

“Oh Dean, please, stop with the gratitude, it’s embarrassing!” Gabriel was certainly in high spirits, having vanquished his foretold enemy. “Go get your man, bucko!” 

Dean whirled, a desperate hope in his eyes that hurt Sam to see. A bedraggled figure was just making its way into the shallows. 

“Cas!” Dean yelled, already running to support the angel as he staggered. 

“Good job, Gabriel,” Sam said, looking down at his lover, only to grab him as he started to fall over. 

“Gabriel!” Sam exclaimed, sinking down under the always surprising weight of the archangel. 

“Hoo boy, that took more out of me than I thought,” Gabriel wheezed out. “Fuckers were stuck on staying here at the all-you-can-eat buffet.” 

Sam didn’t even hesitate, just leaned in toward Gabriel, physically and metaphysically. The concerning grey pallor faded as Gabriel seemed to regain his vitality. 

Hypothesis confirmed. Godfuckingdammit. 

“Are we gonna talk about that?” Sam asked, giving Gabriel his best bitchface. 

“Uh...” Gabriel stalled, “What answer doesn’t get me the couch for the rest of eternity?” 

“Eternity?! Consent, Gabe, consent. It’s a thing we’ve talked about!” Sam sighed, hugging his archangel to his chest even as he grew more exasperated. “I think bonding to someone is a thing that comes under needing consent!” 

“Hey! I didn’t totally do it on purpose! You just had to ask all those clever questions about angel relationships and hierarchies and get me thinking about bonds. Of course, I was gonna slip up and bond us by accident! Have you ever known me to not grasp what I want, when I want it, and make it mine?” 

Oh, God, this was the childish, possessive entity he was bound to forever? 

Sam felt a tentative poking of contrite, but smugly content emotions. He looked down into the impish face of God’s last remaining archangel, the being he really did love. 

“You’re still on the couch, buddy.” 

Ignoring Gabriel’s largely put-on pout, Sam hauled them both to their feet. He looked for Dean and Cas, not surprised to see them still entangled with each other, foreheads resting together as they talked urgently and sincerely. 

“Aww, young love,” Gabriel said, pretending to swoon. Sam let him drop instead of catching him. 

“Hey!” Gabriel cried out in annoyance. 

“Archangel,” Sam said, mimicking the way Gabriel always said it. 

Their stress-relieving antics stopped as Castiel, supported by Dean, finally made his way toward them. 

“Brother,” Cas stated solemnly, “I am so pleased you are not dead.” 

“Likewise, Cassy. Although you ‘n’ me are gonna have a little talk about your decision making,” Gabriel warned. He walked over and gave his brother a hug, complicated emotions swirling through both him and Sam. 

Soon enough, Gabriel stepped back, muttering something Sam couldn’t hear. Cas, however, ducked his head before meeting his brother’s eyes and nodding. Straightening up with a concerned Dean hovering right behind him, Cas slowly started walking the short distance to Sam. 

Sam didn’t try to stop Castiel as he carefully approached, giving him that piercing look that meant he was looking into Sam’s soul. 

“Sam, I am glad to see you looking well. I have apologized to Dean and would like to do so to you, as well. I was misguided and caused much pain in my actions. I am sorry.” 

He wasn’t sure what to say. Dean’s glare at his minute hesitation was definitely not helping. “Cas, man, I’m just glad you’re back with us.” 

That was apparently enough to stave off any incipient fratricide as Dean turned his attention back to fussing at Castiel. 

Cas, for his part, just nodded in quiet acceptance. “Brother,” he said, turning those big blue eyes on Gabriel, “why have you travelled in time, upsetting the time line, and why have you brought Sam with you?” 

“Not my doing!” Gabriel protested. 

“Ah, Cas, that’s not something we need to worry about right now,” Dean said, wary of upsetting his newly recovered-from-being-a-Leviathan-taxi friend. 

“Dean, I can see that both of them have suffered enormously in future events and that they have both returned to this time. You say it was not your doing, brother. What I don’t understand, then, is how such a thing is possible. Nothing should be able to move you temporally against your will.” 

“Your guess is as good as mine, bro,” Gabriel said, looking irked that he still didn’t have an answer. 

A voice came from behind them. “Actually, that would be my fault.” 

All four whirled around to see Chuck, or rather God, standing by the water’s edge. He was in His usual dishabille, looking small and harmless with His hands in His pockets. 

“Dad?!” Gabriel gasped out. 

“Hello Gabriel. Castiel. Sam, Dean,” He said, nodding to each in turn. 

"DAD?!” Dean yelled. 

Oh, right. Sam hadn’t really covered that in his brief rundown of all the shit that happened/happens. 

“Chuck is God? Chuck, who slept with Becky Rosen? Chuck, who knew every thought and action I ever...Oh my...” 

“I wouldn’t finish that phrase if I were you,” Chuck said calmly. 

Dean wisely shut up, swallowing visibly at the threat implied. Castiel didn’t say anything, only stepped up against Dean’s shoulder. 

Gabriel forcibly shoved down the maelstrom Sam could feel his emotions cycling through. “So, Daddy-o, what exactly did you do?” 

Waving his hand dismissively, Chuck said, “Oh, not much. I was just playing around with some ideas about what should happen next in the story. You know, just some simulation testing. Like if the Leviathan ate _this_ or if Lucifer got out of the Cage _here_ , if Asmodeus had drained you dry _then_. Pop everything into a pocket universe, let things play out, then reboot the whole show. You’re intimately familiar with the concept, I believe, Gabriel.” 

Sam felt like growling at the shame that washed through his archangel. 

Chuck just shrugged, ignoring his creation’s reaction. “I wanted to see what would happen. I didn’t overly like that one, but be grateful it was better than some of the other test runs.” 

Gabriel, and therefore Sam, felt another pang at his Father’s disinterest in the massive pain and suffering He’d caused. It was accompanied by a sense of resigned familiarity. The fact that Sam could tell it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to made Sam ready to blow his stack over the Supreme Entity. That was probably something he should stop, before Gabriel had to figure out how to put Sam back together, again, but _damn_ was he furious that Gabriel should be dismissed like that. 

Gabriel could apparently tell Sam was approaching boiling point, as he used a little mojo to project a big flashing _Don’t_ sign into Sam’s noggin. 

Deadbeat Dad of the millennia continued, “It was just a pocket universe. It’s not like anything was real.” 

Obviously, something in one of their expressions finally struck Chuck, as He rolled His eyes and said, “I have no idea why you two remember everything. You shouldn’t have had any bleed through from the you that lived, or didn’t as the case may be, through those events.” His expression brightened though, struck with a thought. “It’ll be extremely fascinating to see how things develop with your foreknowledge of some events, though. Even I can’t predict what’ll happen now. Finally. Something interesting!” 

Sam growled, “Interesting?!” 

“Oh, Sam, nothing is ever interesting. I can see how everything is going to happen. Every now and then, something might blindside me, usually to do with you and your brother, actually, but this...this is going to be so much fun! I have no idea about what you’ll do with your ‘memories’ or what this might change. Try to stay alive long enough to be diverting.” 

With that mic-drop, He disappeared, leaving a very annoyed group of angels and hunters. 

After a long pause that no one apparently wanted to break, Dean pushed up to his feet and clapped Gabriel on the shoulder, saying, “Dude, your dad is definitely the worst.” 

It was Castiel of all people who ground out, “You have no idea, Dean.” 

Sam’s fury at Chuck rose again, but he sighed, tilting his head back to the sky as he forced it down. He took a moment to simply look at the brilliantly blue cloudless sky. He was fine. His brother and Bobby were fine. Castiel was recovered. And Sam had Gabriel back. They’d just defeated one of the deadliest foes he could remember and they were all intact. It was a perfect moment to remember why they did what they did and to marvel that they were all still standing 

“Okay campers, on to the next stage,” Gabriel said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s finish cleaning up these messes and then start worrying about all the problems down the line.” 

That hadn’t lasted long. Sam felt a small smile on his face as he tilted his head back down, though, because yeah, they were okay. 

Bringing things back into focus in the way only he could, Castiel interjected, “Including the fact that our Father is going to be keeping a close eye on you and Sam, brother.” 

Gabriel couldn’t quite hide from Sam the shudder of dread that swept through him. Sam was right there with him. 

“Yeah, Cassie, that’s not gonna be a great thing, but let’s focus on one thing at a time okay? You safe and sound back in your Winchester’s arms, check. Leviathans, check. Crowley and Asmodeus, next on the list.” Gabriel’s tone darkened as he said the last. 

“Guess we’re going back to Hell, then,” Dean said, already checking his ammunition while keeping one arm around Castiel. Sam wasn’t sure if the angel still needed supporting or not, but he wasn’t going to poke that bear quite yet. 

They had bigger things to worry about. 

Two birds, one stone. They would remove a large potential problem in the running of Hell and Gabriel would get his revenge. 

Off to Hell they went.

**Author's Note:**

> How _does_ Sam's foreknowledge help? Will he change enough that he begins to not recognize events? How much of a smackdown is A Very Pissed, Fully Powered Archangel going to lay on Asmodeus? 
> 
> Is Chuck really going to sit back and watch two sets of brothers play in his sandbox?
> 
> To be continued...


End file.
